The Shadow King (24 page)

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Authors: Heather Killough-Walden

BOOK: The Shadow King
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And that’s why Dahlia was there. She was afraid of the same thing everyone who loved Lalura was afraid of. She was afraid the Entity would come for the old witch. And though Lalura could certainly handle herself in most situations, again, the Entity was terribly powerful and they simply knew too little about him. He’d managed to take over the spirits of thousands of Pan Shadows, for instance. He kept inhabiting the bodies of queens, no matter how everyone tried to stop him. He always seemed one step ahead of everyone.

And so, Dahlia wasn’t willing to take chances. For that matter, neither was Poppy.

“So, I heard that the Unseelie King has officially pardoned you,” Poppy ventured.

Dahlia blushed a little. “I guess it impressed the Thirteen Kings that I managed to come away from my encounter having kept my mind more or less intact and having stored all the information I did.”

“Dahlia,” said Lalura, drawing the woman’s immediate attention. “What you did was very brave, child. It’s as I have always told you,” she continued as she slowly stirred the liquids in the bowl and watched them carefully. She was brewing up another batch of
Lifeblood
for Dahlia. “There is much more in you than you know. And you were meant for much more than you realize.”

Poppy watched Dahlia look away, and she understood the look on her face. The Tuath were a proud breed. It was hard for her to relive what had happened, even in the light of praise.

Poppy turned back to Lalura. She stood and approached the table with the large bowl on it. She loved this part – the mixture would begin to bubble, and then it would begin to glow. It was a vibrant lilac in color and according to Dahlia, it was cold on the tongue and tasted like a combination of cotton candy and Jolly Ranchers grape candies. It sounded delicious to Poppy. But it wasn’t for her. It was definitely for Dahlia.

She needed it now. It was the substitution Lalura had ingeniously created for her that would allow her to exist without feeding on the blood of others.

Just as D’Angelo’s Offspring and vampires in general were expected to need to do, the Entity’s creations had to “feed,” as Dahlia put it. They relied upon the blood of others to continue existing. The unfortunate aspect of this, of course, was that you needed a volunteer. Or you could go rogue, which was probably more along the lines of what the Entity’s vampires did. But that wasn’t Dahlia.

To eradicate the issue right off the bat, Lalura had gotten to work tackling the problem from a magical vantage point. It turned out, it was easier to do than anyone had expected, because whereas the Offspring were vampires due to genetics, the very nature of the
Entity’s
vampirism was one of
magic
.

Dahlia now possessed the ability to fly, to move through shadows, to become mist, to move at incredible, blurring speeds, and Superman-like strength. On the down side, she had to keep up her blood supply just as the Tuath in her had once had to keep up sex. On the
up
side, she no longer had to have sex to replenish her magic! The Lifeblood potion did that for her, because now her magic was more linked to her vampirism than it was to her Unseelie fae nature.

In the end, Poppy was willing to bet Dahlia was more happy with the outcome of her kidnapping than she was unhappy. She’d come away from the experience scathed, for sure. But in the very long-run, it looked like it was going to be something good for Dahlia rather than bad.

Which made everyone wonder why the hell the Entity would have done it.

All they could figure, in the end, was that the Entity was not perfect. When he was angry enough, he got sloppy. He made mistakes.

And that, right there, was the boon they had that was worth more than anything so far.

Chapter Thirty-Four

It was 2:45 in Seattle on a day on the cooler side, which was perfect for jeans, dark hoodies, and loads of Starbucks coffee. The latter was something Keeran knew Violet was more than happy to supply her Tuath body with, and something that Poppy, or Persephone Glacia Nix, was equally happy to drink right along with her.

They’d just finished their third medium cup when the three of them sat down at a local vegetarian café for barbeque tofu and salads.

Keeran leaned in after they’d ordered their meals and added, “Make one without cucumbers.” The guy behind the counter nodded, and Keeran turned to find Violet eyeing him suspiciously.

“You don’t like cucumbers?”

“No,
you
don’t.”

Her gaze narrowed, and her head tilted to one side. She was so cute when she did that, like a puppy trying to figure out what the hell you were saying. “How did you know I don’t like cucumbers?”

He grinned, thoroughly enjoying her confusion. “Lucky guess.”

A few minutes later, they’d finished eating and were moving through a large crowd of people toward the face of a massive glass-fronted building several blocks from the café. Keeran took point, and the three of them flashed their lanyard badges to a group of blue-garbed individuals and entered yet another building hosting downtown Seattle’s PAX Prime convention. As there had been in every location, there were thousands of people milling about around them, more than Keeran had ever encountered at a convention before. The video game revolution had fully taken hold, and this was more than enough proof.

“It smells vaguely of cheese in here,” said Poppy.

Violet laughed softly, and Keeran smiled to himself. Unfortunately, any time you packed this many people into one place at any given point in time, it would come with consequences. Odor was usually one of those consequences. Add to that the fact that most of these people tended toward the “geeky” shut-in side of the spectrum, and it was probably best to travel with mentholatum on the lip.

“You know, you contribute to the shut-in aspect with the games you create,” said Violet, who leaned over to whisper in his ear. A rush of pleasure traveled through his ear, down his neck, and into his body, warming his blood. As usual, he resisted the urge to grab her, pull her into him, and take her right there in front of a thousand ogling nerds.

Clearly he’d been thinking a little too loudly, and the bond he and his queen now shared was stronger than ever. He grinned.

He was happy. He was really, truly happy. Had he ever felt like this in his entire life?

“Oooh!” Poppy exclaimed. “I’ll catch up with you at the panel! They have
Don’t Starve
merchandise over there! I’ve wanted one of those hats since
forever
!” She rushed off, leaving he and Violet alone in the midst of a milling crowd.

They moved through it slowly, filling their eyes with the signs, sights, and sounds. There were impressive displays up all over the place for everything from
My Little Pony
to
Game of Thrones
. Keeran imagined that Damon Chroi would love a place like this. But the man had become inordinately busy of late. A house filled with three new babies and half a zoo will do that to the best of men.

“Did I ever tell you that I love the BEK games, by the way?” Violet asked, laughing as she admitted it.

Keeran stopped and looked down at her. She was blushing, her grin the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

“No, you didn’t,” he said, feeling his chest puff up. “You seriously do?” But he could read her surface thoughts plain as day just then, so he knew she was telling the truth. She liked everything about them but the puzzles on level fifteen of game four, which apparently irked her to no end.

He laughed. “I guess I never would have pegged you for a gamer.” Then he asked, seriously, “What else don’t I know about you, little acorn?”

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me,” she said mysteriously, and shot him a coy look that made his dick hard. “Yet.”

Shit
. His breath was arrested, and his gums were starting to ache. He glanced at a clock on the wall. The panel he wanted to take her to started in eleven minutes, and if he didn’t play his cards just right, he would have to use magic to get them the two seats he wanted. Not enough time to pull her into a shadow portal, screw her brains out, and return to the mortal world. Not quite.

“Come this way,” he practically growled, smiling a hungry but happy smile.

He had something planned.

She laughed beside him as he took her firmly by the upper arm and pulled her through the crowd. As they moved, several people stopped what they were doing and nudged their companions. Most convention attendees were either standing in a line for a booth, standing in line for a panel, getting autographs, playing new video games at display booths, or playing video games on their own portable devices. But when their friends elbowed them and pointed in Keeran’s direction, they inevitably looked up.

And Keeran was happy he was wearing his black hoodie and leather jacket, his hood pulled well over his forehead so that all that showed were the shadowy angles of his face.

That was enough, though. Enough to raise suspicions. After all, every publicity shot he’d ever had taken of himself for his video games had been images just like the one he was revealing now: Masculine figure, unshaven chin, black hood, eyes glowing from the darkness.

Crap, my eyes
, he realized.
They probably are glowing. No wonder so many more people are noticing in this building!
Violet had hit a nerve, heated his blood, and now the beast in him was rearing its head. It didn’t help that he was working very hard to hide some of his thoughts from her in order to keep his surprise. That took great effort and very old skill. It was like an internal work-out. His wolf was showing, and his eyes were, indeed glowing.

“It’s okay,” Violet told him, leaning in again to whisper as she picked up the pace so they could get through the crowd without incident. “They probably just think you’re a cosplayer doing the
Shade-nigma
thing, and not the real deal.”

As if to illustrate her point, they squeezed through a group of people dressed up as different “Links” from The Legend of Zelda: Triforce Heroes. All three of the cosplayers stopped what they were doing, however, and looked up at Keeran with interest.

Violet continued, “Shade-nigma isn’t supposed to be at PAX until the last day, and no one would expect him to hang around the convention beforehand. Trust me, they think you’re just someone who
wants
to be him.”

She did have a point there. Most panel speakers stayed at their hotel when they weren’t expected to make appearances, or they flew in the second before the panel and flew back out again the moment they had a chance to. It was very much an “Elvis has left the building” kind of thing for the people who desperately wanted to see them.

Which made Keeran smile again. Because what he had planned that night would even that score a little bit in favor of the gamers. And they deserved it, after all. They were the reason these panel speakers were famous in the first place.

At last, they reached the stairs that led to the floor where the panel he was taking her to was going to be held.

“Holy shit,” mouthed Violet.

The line trailed down four flights of stairs that wound to the third floor of the building. That same line then traveled around in a massive half-circle from one side of the building to the other until it reached the double doors that would allow people entrance into the theater.

“Yeah, Markiplier is rather popular,” Keeran said, as he quickly figured the logistics of what he was going to do next. There were shadows in each corner of the stair platforms. But they were small. It would take some maneuvering, and some kind of decoy. He was working on what that decoy was going to be – when the panel’s main speaker, “Markiplier,” himself walked in through the front doors of the building, surrounded by PAX Prime “enforcers.”

The crowd of PAX attendees suddenly swelled, and like a giant body of colorful water, they moved toward the railing overlooking the courtyard below, where Mark and his companions were stepping into the foyer.

Markiplier, whose real name was Mark Fischbach, stopped mid-way across the carpet and looked up to wave at his fans. The dark-haired man flashed a trademark white grin, and the crowd went wild – giving Keeran his opportunity.

“Come on – in here.”

He waited until the crowd nearest he and Violet had their collective backs turned and stepped into the shadow afforded by the awning, pulling his queen in with him.

Chapter Thirty-Five

Markiplier, or Mark Fischbach, was an internet personality specializing in what was termed “Let’s Play” media and humor in general. Mark and a band of friends, who were to appear on this panel, would basically film themselves playing various video games, making jokes about it, and reacting to it with the kind of drama rivaled only by Sesame Street’s Grover.

And the fans loved it. At this juncture, the Markiplier team had approximately ten million subscribers, and that number was climbing every day.

Keeran had lived through a lot of things, seen a lot of things, and learned a lot of things. And one of the things he’d learned was that sometimes, the most unexpected phenomena will change the world. You would probably bet on a heart-rending speech, or a public assassination. War, bombings, elections, laws being made and laws being broken. You’d put money on the world changing with time, in general. But who would have foretold that watching someone play
Minecraft
while intoxicated would touch a soul somewhere that was lonely? Who would have known that the kid being bullied, the young adult on the verge of suicide, or the socially awkward genius would find some sort of solace in laughing along with stupid shit performed by a man in his underwear playing
Five Nights at Freddy’s
?

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